


Shadow of the Black Moon

by yongbora



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: F/F, Multi, OT4 but fyi the ship is not the focus, Oc's POV, it's there but really just shows up at the end, kinda dark since it's his pov, vampire stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yongbora/pseuds/yongbora
Summary: People always say you shouldn't play with your food. But for the powerful Vampiress Yongsun and her three loyal companions, the game is just too delicious to resist.(Inspired by their concept performance at the 2018 Melon Music Awards)





	1. The Lure

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on aff on 181210 (Kitkat27), posting here now that I have an account just to keep everything together.
> 
> Original Foreword:  
> So their performance at the MMAs was amazing and the whole concept got my thoughts running wild… this is the result. If you haven't seen it yet - first, where have you been?? because you're missing out - but more importantly for this fic specifically, I think it does help a lot to watch it first. It's a must watch anyways so it’s a win-win.  
>  I’ve rated it M not because of anything super explicit, but more because I just want to play it safe. I try to keep the tension high and it is kinda dark, considering that most of this is from the perspective of the guy who as you can probably tell from the description… well, let’s just say it doesn’t exactly end well for him.

As he lets the last note fade out, he sighs and sips the drink the bartender had been kind enough to offer him before his set. It’s another night down at The Lone Wolf, his local bar. He doesn’t particularly care for the place; it’s dark, a bit grimy, and quite worn down. Not to mention the strange rumors that float around town about disappearances linked to the bar. No one pays them much heed, but it’s just another thing he’d added to his list of why he really doesn’t like working here. He needs the money though - the extra income from his sets is just enough for him to get by with his day job. Plus the patrons seem to enjoy his music well enough, and it’s the only way for him to have a reason to keep up his hobby of playing the piano, so he really shouldn’t complain. 

He’d thought that tonight would be just another normal night. He’d play for a couple hours, graciously accept a few compliments from the people that bothered to pay attention to his music, then return home with a couple drinks in him and a bit more money in his pocket. But tonight was not going that simply.

Another sigh, and another drink. He gulps down more of the alcohol than he usually would, trying to ignore the gazes burning into him. They’ve been here all night, and he’s felt their presence ever since their first look at him when they’d walked in. One by one they’d each approached him between songs, complimenting his playing. The comments had all been innocent enough, but the looks and the small touches… they were anything but. 

A hand sliding gently across his shoulder, a finger under his chin, a knuckle grazing his jaw. The movements combined with the unspoken charisma of whichever woman had approached him that time was enough to completely shut down his mind in the moment. Then they’d be gone as quickly as they’d approached, rejoining the other two in their booth in the corner. Every time he was left attempting to collect his thoughts enough to play his next song while trying (and failing) to ignore the stares they directed his way. 

He takes a deep breath.  _ Only one more song to go, and then I can get out of here _ , he reminds himself. A part of him wonders if that’s really what he wants to do. He shakes his head at the thought and focuses on getting through the piece. 

Every song had been difficult to get through tonight, but it somehow gets even worse as he tries to finish his last performance. He’s been hyper-aware of the three woman in the corner all night, but now he feels their gazes so acutely that despite having his back to them he swears that he knows one of them has gotten up. He feels her eyes stay on him as she crosses the room towards him once again.

As he finishes the performance to the sound of a few polite claps, he risks a glance towards the booth in the corner. Sure enough, one of the women is missing. There isn’t enough time for him to wonder how he could’ve known that without looking before she sidles up next to him. Still sitting on the piano bench, her body presses lightly against him as her arm settles across his shoulders. 

He looks up to find that it’s the one with the long auburn hair and fierce features again. The one who’d introduced herself as Hwasa. As has been the routine all night, he once again finds himself speechless. These women all have a certain presence about them that demands his attention, regardless of what they’re doing. Hwasa has been by far the touchiest of the three all night which has only made it worse.

His mind unable to form a proper response, he all but gapes at her for a moment. Hwasa merely smiles in return and caresses his shoulder gently. 

“You played beautifully tonight. What do you say to a few drinks with the girls and I?”

If his mind hadn’t been working earlier, now it spun out of control. He’d been offered drinks before. He’d even been…  _ propositioned _ before. But in those instances he’d never felt so disarmed as he did tonight. Even if he didn’t feel in control of the situation, he’d always at least felt in control of himself. 

The draw is undeniable. He  _ wants  _ to accept her offer and see where this leads. But his instincts have always been good, saving his ass on more than one occasion. And right now they tell him it’s time to get home. As alluring as these women are, something still feels off about the whole situation

“I-... I’m flattered. But I really should get going. It’s been a long night - a long  _ week _ , actually.”

A small pout forms on Hwasa’s face. The cute gesture contrasts sharply with her still smoldering eyes. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” She pulls him up and presses against his front, looking up at him. Her pout forms into a tiny smile, her lips just barely quirking up on one side. “We just want to get to know the handsome piano man a bit better,” she says, lightly dragging her hand down his arm. 

He exhales sharply at her proximity, and with enormous effort directs his gaze at the door. 

“I’m sorry. I am. But I really do need-”

“Nonsense.” Hwasa cuts him off and tuts. “I understand… you’re just nervous. It’s okay, I tend to have that effect on people.” She smirks, and any further protests all die in his throat. She backs away with his hand in her grasp. “Now come, we’ve all just been  _ dying  _ to meet you properly.”

Hwasa backs away a few steps and pulls him along. Now with a bit of space between them, he has a chance to fully take in her appearance. For the first time tonight he sees just how much of her leg is revealed when her pristine white robe swings away from her body. He hadn’t realized the outfit underneath was  _ that _ short. Forcing his eyes back up, he swallows thickly and follows her to the booth in the corner. 

* * *

 

He starts to think he’s had a few too many drinks.

He couldn’t help it. He’d told himself that he’d sit down for a round or two and chat with the women for just long enough to appease their apparent curiosity about him. No more than that, and then he would leave. But now, he’s still there with them and he’s long since lost count of the drinks he’s been pounding. How else was he supposed to manage this situation though? 

For some reason these three women - no,  _ goddesses _ \- had seen fit to pick him as their companion for the night. If he’d thought their charisma, their  _ draw _ , had been powerful from afar as they’d observed him play the piano, it was nothing compared to experiencing it up close from all three of them at once. 

Why him? It had bothered him all night, or at least it had whenever he wasn’t completely distracted by the women’s attention to him. They’d made it pretty clear what their intention was once they’d gotten him to sit down for drinks. Why would three women like  _ them _ have any interest in taking him home? It was no surprise really that he had drank so much. He desperately needed that liquid courage to even face the situation he’d found himself in.

Thinking about it now makes him need yet another drink, but he finds his glass empty when he reaches for it. He hears a soft giggle next to him and Hwasa’s hand lands on his leg under the table. 

“Don’t worry, Wheein’s back with more for you.” She nods at the shortest woman of the three, the one with short blonde hair swept to the side and the intense smoky eyes, who had just returned to the table.

Wheein slides another glass in front of him with a small and enticing smile. She then sets down a colorful drink in front of Moonbyul, who just gives her an unimpressed look. Wheein chuckles and sends the brunette a wink as she sits back down on his other side. 

“Don’t worry babe, I mixed this one myself.”

Looking considerably more enthusiastic, Moonbyul nods in approval and takes a sip. She sighs at the taste, eyes closed as she savors it. After a moment those dark eyes open again and immediately meet his own. Except… are they red now? He blinks in bewilderment and they’re back to a deep and dark brown. He blinks several times more but the red color does not return.

He gulps down more of his drink, trying to shake the image from his mind and reassure himself. People’s eyes don’t just randomly change color. Glancing back up from his glass, he finds Moonbyul still staring at him intensely, wearing a small smirk. She doesn’t waver and he finds himself unable to look away.

Moonbyul had been both the quietest and least forward with physical contact of the three all night. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have that same powerful presence that draws him in. In fact, it just makes her all the more intriguing in her own way. She has an almost ethereal quality to her, making even a passing glance turn into a gawking stare if one isn’t careful. 

Moonbyul holds the eye contact with him even as she takes another sip. He can’t take it anymore and blinks. The glow returns but only in her right eye, and this time it looks like it’s coming from a shape of some sort. He blinks again, and again, it’s gone. 

He forces himself to look away and focus intently on his glass. It was only a glimpse, but he could’ve swore that he saw a crescent moon glowing in Moonbyul’s eye. It freaks him out a little bit, but the absurdity of the situation quickly catches up. A moon in Moonbyul’s eye? Now he  _ knows _ he’s had way too much to drink. 

Reassured but still a little weirded out, he checks the wall behind him to see if maybe there was something reflecting in her eyes. Seeing nothing, he tries to shake it off, internally laughing at himself for even considering that what he saw was real. Despite his attempts however he still feels a bit of fear brewing underneath his nonchalance.

Wheein and Hwasa both giggle lightly on either side of him and shift closer, leaning on his shoulders. 

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” Wheein asks. 

Moonbyul’s smirk grows in return, and Hwasa hums in agreement.

“He’s perfect.”

A shudder runs down his spine, and he can’t tell whether it’s anticipation or dread.

Things start passing by in a haze, and before he fully realizes that he’d been walking he’s already standing outside the bar with the three women. It’s only right before they guide him into their car that he remembers himself enough to protest.

“I should probably get home.” He takes a deep breath to steel himself before stuttering out the next line. “I-I’ve had a bit too, uh,  _ way  _ too much to drink, and-” Hwasa puts a finger to his lips, causing him to freeze. Leaving it there, she leans up, letting her breath brush his ear. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Suddenly Hwasa is gone and Moonbyul is just as close but on his other side. “It’s alright,” she says. “We don’t mind.” She’s gone as quickly as Hwasa was and then it’s Wheein, so close he feels her lips touch the back of his ear. 

“We’ll take good care of you, I promise.” The whisper sends a shudder down his body as Wheein pulls back only slightly, turning him to face her and lingering expectantly in front of his face. He feels his willpower crumble underneath her gaze.

“I-” He wavers in his protest as Wheein leans up again, this time teasingly brushing her nose with his. The last of his resolve disappears. “Okay.”

The smile that spreads across Wheein’s face is radiant, but laced with something else he can’t begin to understand, especially with the alcohol in his system. In a more sober state, he might have recognized danger. Instead all he feels is warmth from the smile blazing in front of him. A warmth that lingers within him as they settle him into the backseat of the car.


	2. The Game

He wakes up with fabric covering his eyes. It obscures his vision and makes things look a bit blurry, but he can still see alright. He briefly wonders why they’d bother to blindfold him if he can still mostly see through the lacy fabric, but that’s when he realizes - _holy shit, they blindfolded me._

Panic sets in. He starts to struggle, only to realize that he’s stuck. Sitting alone in the middle of an empty room, his hands are bound behind the back of the chair. Some experimental tugging reveals that his hands are also bound to the chair itself. The bonds seem relatively loose however, and he draws some hope from that. Maybe he can get himself out of this.

As he works on the bonds, he tries to remember what happened. Images of the three women at the bar pass through his mind but it’s hard for him to make sense of it. All he can really remember clearly is how drawn to them he felt. Even now, he can feel their light and teasing touches, their soft words in his ear.

His struggling slows as he loses himself in the sensations. It just feels so _real_ to him. Like he’s back in the bar again - a light touch on his leg from Hwasa, Wheein’s breath on his cheek, someone’s hand dragging lightly down his arm, another across his chest. Moonbyul’s eyes boring into him, a deep red glow emanating from within them.

Wait.

His eyes snap open - _when had they slipped shut?_ \- to see Moonbyul’s amused face only inches from his own. He jerks back in surprise, and she backs away with a smirk, letting her hand graze his cheek lightly on the way. Becoming aware of movement elsewhere he looks down to see that what he’d been feeling was real. Hwasa and Wheein’s hands give lingering caresses as they too pull away from him.

Trying to make sense of what’s happening, he watches them through his blindfold as they disappear into the shadows behind him. Moments pass, but he knows they’re still there. He can _feel_ their presence as they lie in wait. _But for what?_

He doesn’t even think to resume struggling with his bonds, the tension in the dim, silent room causing him to freeze and await the women’s next move. Fear brews in his chest. _Just what are they going to do to me?_ They’d felt alluring and sensual - powerful even - at the bar, but never did he see the night turning into something like this.

Suddenly the room gets even darker, before filling with a sinister red light that ripples across the room. An ominous heartbeat noise begins a slow rhythm, and eerie tones echo over the top. The sounds crescendo to a peak before abruptly dropping off. A wolf howls, and the room returns to silence.

In any other situation he might’ve just laughed it off as some haunted house gimmick, a cheesy intro to a cringy horror movie. But everything is too real for him to brush it off. He can feel the fear rushing through him. At this point he even wonders if the wolf is real, and if becoming food for it will be his fate.

_Just who are these people?_ He asks himself. They haven’t returned to where he can see them, but he can still feel their gazes.

“What do you want from me?”

His desperate question is only met with more silence. He squirms in his seat, trying to get a good look behind him, but to no avail.

“What did I do? Please let me go!”

This time he gets a response, but only in the form of a small chuckle. It confirms what he already knew - that they’re still here. It also tells him that they’re enjoying this. He’s in some sort of game they’re playing, but he has no idea what that game entails.

He resumes struggling against the ropes, almost sure that they’re getting looser. It gives him another much-needed shot of hope. However that hope is quickly dashed when the room fills with noise again. A slow piano tune plays, charging the atmosphere around him with a smooth and sensual energy.

The women behind him still don’t say anything, but he can _feel_ them move closer. They take up positions surrounding him before then approaching with slow and calculated steps.

He pulls more desperately at his bonds. As enticing as this situation is becoming, the part of his mind that’s still thinking rationally recognizes this can’t be something that ends well for him. Something is very wrong here. He makes progress but not quickly enough because suddenly they’re all right next to him again.

The view is blurry through his blindfold but he can still make out the perfection that is their forms. They’ve shed the robes and coats they’d been wearing at the bar to show their more revealing outfits underneath. Despite himself, his eyes fix on them whenever they pass in front of him, sometimes spinning past, sometimes teasingly sliding a hand on him along the way, sometimes even stopping to pose before resuming the dance.

They’re trying to distract him, and he knows that, but it doesn’t stop their tactics from working.

The music settles into a groove and he finds himself falling into it. He loses himself in the moment. As the women shift around him, he is never left without one of them touching him. It’s never explicit, only light and teasing, but it’s more than enough to muddle his thoughts and slow his movements. His yanks on the ropes falter to occasional light tugs, and his head lolls back into Moonbyul’s arms. She caresses it for second, but then she’s gone again, caught up in the continuous dance around him.

All sense of time leaves him as he loses himself in the sensations. It’s only when they finally all pull away again that he begins to remember himself and the situation. They take up positions in front of him, beginning a new dance as the piano music changes slightly, still maintaining the intense atmosphere of the room.

Everything about this situation, as hot as it is, screams danger to him. But it’s impossible for him to tear his eyes away. They move their bodies slowly and sensuously. Their bright white outfits contrast beautifully with their skin, skin that’s glowing in the dim lighting. He continues pulling at the ropes on instinct, but he’s too enraptured to notice that he’s almost broken free.

Their dance slows and they all draw together. Hwasa in the middle, the other two press into her sides. Wandering hands slide across each other’s bodies, and their faces draw close enough to one another to share breath. They’re so enraptured with each other that he almost wonders if they forgot about him.

His unspoken question is quickly answered when they all suddenly turn to face him in unison. This time, the red glow comes from all of their eyes, and he knows for sure that it’s real. He doesn’t know how, or why, but he does know that every instinct in his body screams _run_.

They begin to approach him again, the red glow never fading no matter how many times he blinks. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, his struggles return twofold, and something finally gives way.

His hands are finally free. They finish their approach and surround him once again. Holding onto the fear so as not to give into the desires telling him to stay, he jolts up from the chair. He pushes away the arms lingering in front of him and bolts through the first door he sees.

Through his panic and desperation he doesn’t even hear the laughs echoing in the room behind him.

 

* * *

He stumbles down the hallway, still having some trouble thinking straight after what happened in the last room. The same ominous red lighting is here as well, but the only sounds are his labored breathing and heavy footsteps. The piano music had long since faded away behind him. He isn’t sure if it had been turned off or if he is just far enough away, but he doesn’t intend to find out either way.

The women don’t seem to be following him. Regardless, he continues to run, desperate to get as far away from those three temptresses as he can. Nothing tonight had made any sense, so his only coherent thought is _get away_. He hadn’t even thought to remove his blindfold. He focuses entirely on moving forward.

Continuing to stumble along, he starts to wonder just how long this hallway is. With it comes more questions. He still doesn’t understand what these women want with him, or why they chose him specifically. Was it just to toy with him as they had in that room and at the bar? Were they done with him now? What did they plan to do with him? And the question that weighed on him the most once it occurred to him - had he really defied them by running, or was this “escape” just another part of their game?

He tries to set that aside. He’s gotten away, now he just needs to keep going and get out of here. Get home and forget this ever happened. Forget Moonbyul’s sultry smirk, forget Wheein’s alluring voice, forget Hwasa’s tempting touches.

His pace slows as he rounds a corner where the hallways abruptly turns. How could he forget them? Even now, filled with fear and on the run, images of the three women fill his mind. He knows he’ll never be able to forget this night, no matter how hard he tries.

Down to a walking pace now, he realizes he’s reached another door only just before walking right into it. He tests the handle, finding it unlocked, but stops himself before opening it. He looks around, only seeing the hallway he’d come from and the door. No other options. He either has to risk facing whatever might be on the other side of the door, or risk going back to the women who’d tormented him all night.

Both options fill him with dread. He has a bad feeling about what will happen no matter which way he goes from here. However, he isn’t given much time to think it over, as more soft piano music begins to play from the room ahead of him. It’s subtle, but it catches his attention immediately.

This piano tune is more sweet than the previous one. It feels like it could almost be sad, mournful even. But then the notes descend, and he feels the true meaning of the music. It sparks a need. Builds anticipation. He sucks in a breath and feels a sudden wave of longing wash over him. It’s draw is undeniable, and he sways on his feet before collapsing against the door under the weight of the song.

Breathing hard as he leans over against the door, a strange calm feeling is the next to spread throughout his body, leaving him suddenly sure about his next move. He can feel another presence on the other side, but it doesn’t fill him with fear. Curiosity and intrigue take over. Before he can think twice about it, he’s already opened the door.

He stumbles through the doorway, having forgotten he’d been leaning so heavily against the door. He manages to regain his footing just in time to avoid falling. The music is much louder now that he’s in the room and it makes his anticipation even more intense. He leans over on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

How can such a simple tune affect him like this? The music holds for a moment, and he holds his breath with it. Everything comes to a complete stop besides the single piano chord resonating throughout the room. It echoes around him, stealing his complete attention.

Just when he feels he can’t hold his breath any longer, the music swells, and he inhales along with it, filling his lungs to bursting and savoring the building tension. It finally crests, resolving in a single deep drum beat that starts off a slow, sensual rhythm. He exhales in time with the drum, completely captivated.

Without thinking about it, his eyes are drawn upwards and he straightens his posture. Even through the blindfold blurring his vision, the sheer _draw_ of the woman in front of him is staggering. His jaw drops open and he automatically takes a step forward, feeling an undeniable need to be closer to this woman.

She’s also dressed in pure white, but most of her exposed skin is her midriff rather than her legs like the others. His eyes drag themselves up her body agonizingly slowly. Each part of her trying to distract his focus from its destination. She simply continues to stand there, facing him, letting him take her in.

Upwards his gaze moves, from her stocking-clad feet to the tops of her garters, lingering on the flat plane of her stomach, up across her chest, and catching glints of light shining from the small chains around her top. Finally, his eyes land on her face, taking in her flawless features. Her eyes are closed and he finds himself both relieved and disappointed with the discovery.

His eyes glue themselves to her closed ones. He takes in the dark makeup. She’s done up with a look just as fierce as the other women, with bold dark lines and thick shadows. Wanting to see more, he stares, willing her eyes to open and meet his. Something in the back of his mind begs him to look away, but his body refuses to cooperate.

The other women had been mesmerizing, so much so that he’d been willing to believe it was supernatural by the end of their interactions. But with this woman, the feeling is amplified. Despite the ropes being long gone from his body he feels trapped. Stuck in place right where he stands, forced to wait for the woman to make the first move. The power that exudes from her mere presence is overwhelming.

This recognition of her power still does nothing to prepare him for when she opens her eyes.

Her eyes snap open, and her chin lifts upwards. It makes him feel as if she’s looking down on him despite her shorter stature. She makes direct eye contact immediately, and though it’s through the blindfold, he _feels_ it. Everything else in his vision is blurry from the fabric, but her dark eyes shine through to him clearly.

She takes a step towards him and his desire to run returns in force, but it’s gone and forgotten as quickly as it came when she turns and steps away onto a platform with a silver pole sticking up from the center. The loss of eye contact lets him release the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The relief is only slight though as his eyes stay fixed on her form. He slowly staggers towards her, inching closer at a snail's pace, following a compulsion he can't identify, much less resist.

She reaches the pole, circling and caressing it for moment, before she falls into the music. Her moves are fluid and sensually charged. She spins around the pole, flowing from one position to the next, punctuating each with a snappy movement as she lands on the slow beats.

His hungry eyes try to take in as much as they can, though he again doesn’t think to remove the blindfold. The only thing he can bring himself to act on is the urge to watch, and to drift closer. But the closer he gets, the more overwhelmed he feels by her being. His knees get weak. His legs tremble. His hands shake. But still he continues inching ever closer.

A spin around the pole, and her legs snap into place in front of it. Another spin, and then she’s leaning back, muscles rippling under her skin as she slides down the pole before striking a pose.

Perhaps she’s a goddess. A real one. It seems the only way to justify the power she holds over him just by being in the same room. He wonders if perhaps it was her power as well that emanated from the other women as they enraptured him all night.

She drops to her knees and spins on them with a flourish, ending in an alluring pose as her leg stretches out and her arm lifts gently into the air, her gaze following along. He finally stops his slow approach, only a couple steps away from her now. She returns to the pole, wrapping one ankle around it while leaving the other extended as she spins. Somewhere in his minimally functional mind he marvels at her strength.

A quick shift to stop herself and she stands up, pulling away from the poll. Suddenly she’s standing before him again, but this time only an arm’s length away. She’s looking down, hiding her eyes from him so he stares, mentally begging to see them again up close.

Her eyes snap up to meet his. He’d thought the initial eye-contact when he’d first entered the room had prepared him, but he was wrong. The intensity of her gaze makes his knees buckle. Barely managing to keep himself up, he automatically leans slightly forward towards her.

She catches him, reaching up a hand that cups his jaw gently and holds him in place. Her hand pulls away, fingers caressing his face, and it’s too much. His legs finally give way and he collapses to his knees in front of her.

He lets out a shaky breath at the loss of eye-contact, but he isn’t given time to find his bearings. The woman slips behind him, her hand lingering on his shoulder. It feels as if he’s being enveloped in her presence all around him as she draws ever closer.

Kneeling behind him now, the woman’s other hand finds his head and abruptly forces it sideways. He cries out in surprise but it doesn’t hurt like he expected it to. It’s quickly overshadowed by the next sensation as the woman’s breath lands on the exposed plane of his neck. Goosebumps erupt across his skin and he closes his eyes.

Dipping down even further, her nose makes contact with his neck. She takes in long deep breaths, as if savoring his scent. It makes him shudder and some of his fear returns. However she derails his thoughts yet again as she travels the expanse of his throat, nipping and tugging lightly at the skin along the way. When she finds his pulse point she gives it extra attention, sucking at it gently until it sends a wave of shivers down his spine.

What chance did his fear stand against a woman like this? What chance did he stand? The warning bells his instincts had tried to ring for him had been repeatedly shoved to the back of his mind by these women, and now he can feel his defenses faltering even further under this one’s touch. Melting under her spell.

She shifts, lowering him down so he’s lying on his back. Following closely behind, she positions herself on top of him, her body setting his on fire wherever they’re in contact. It isn’t until he’s fully lying down that she removes her hand from his head, having made sure he kept it craned to the side to leave his neck exposed to her.

He feels another breath on his neck, before she leans up further to find his ear.

“Now, you’re _mine_.”

He _whimpers_.

His entire body shudders with the sheer power he can feel concealed behind her velvety voice. It’s low and soft, but with an edge to it that makes him want to drop to his knees for her all over again. He knows that those words carry a deeper meaning to them, one that likely does not bode well for him, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Her hand returns to his face, but this time it pulls up his blindfold. He opens his eyes, getting a clear, unobstructed view of the woman for the first time. A gasp catches in his throat at the sight. Her eyes seem to shine even brighter, boring into him. The smirk set on her lips is devilish enough to finally bring back some of his fear, but all he can bring himself to do is stare at the captivating woman on top of him, his eyes attempting to map out every detail.

Leaning in close to his face, his gaze gets trapped by her dark eyes. She lets out a short, breathy laugh.

“Mmm, yes. You will taste absolutely _exquisite_.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, letting out a small hum of appreciation. “All these beautiful conflicting emotions, just for me?” Her eyes open again and she leans her head back slightly. “My girls really do know how to pick the best meals.”

Her smile widens, turning sinister. That feeling only amplifies when her lips spread enough to reveal two prominent fangs.

His eyebrows scrunch together. Questions and emotions swirl in his mind. _What? Why? How?_

Smile still set on her face, her irises start glowing a deep red.

In an instant, all of his emotions condense. Everything - the captivation, the confusion, the fear - it all molds together into sheer panic. He still doesn’t really understand what’s going on, nor is he sure he even believes everything that’s happened to him tonight, but he knows he needs to _get out_.

He tries to sit up, but she pins him down easily with an arm across his chest. Before he can even think of his next move, she latches onto him, her fangs sinking into his throat. He lets out a cry of pain, but the sting fades quickly and his cry turns into a groan. He struggles briefly, legs kicking out and his arms lifting to weakly push at the woman, but it only lasts a few moments.

A strange sense of calm settles over him. He still knows he should be scared… but why? How could he be? This woman, no, this goddess is on top of him, and he feels...

His eyes flutter as he struggles to stay awake. He feels lightheaded. Lightheaded… and cold. Cold everywhere except his throat. His throat is on fire, and it throbs in tandem with the woman as she sucks.

Thinking of the woman again makes him smile slightly. Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, they slip shut and his head lolls weakly. His vision fills with the face of the woman, with her devilish smirk and glowing red eyes.

He wonders why he ever thought he should be afraid of her.

 

* * *

Yongsun stands up and lets out a satisfied sigh as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand. She doesn’t spare the body on the ground a second glance, turning her attention to the door where she knows her girls have been waiting for her. Sure enough, it’s only another moment before the door handle twists and they file in.

Wheein is the first to reach her, looking up at her hopefully.

“How was he? Did we get a good one for you?”

The other two chuckle at Wheein’s eagerness. Yongsun smiles warmly, drawing closer and cupping Wheein’s cheek. Ever since Byulyi and Hyejin had brought Wheein back with them one night and she’d made the decision to join them, she’d always been especially eager to please Yongsun. It meant that though Yongsun appreciated and loved all three of them deeply, she couldn’t help but be a little biased towards the blonde haired woman.

“This one…” Yongsun holds eye-contact with Wheein, enjoying the way her gaze turns expectant as she waits for the answer. “...was perfect. His fear tasted _delicious_.”

Wheein’s face lights up with a proud smile. It’s irresistible, so Yongsun doesn’t bother trying. She leans in to capture the shorter girls lips and Wheein responds with enthusiasm. Their lips move in tandem until Yongsun pulls away. Wheein grins, dazed for a moment, before tucking herself into Yongsun’s side.

Yongsun smiles and wraps an arm around Wheein’s waist as she turns her focus to the other two women in the room. She licks her lips before addressing them all, but Byulyi interrupts with a question.

“What about him, do you want us to take care of that first?”

Yongsun rolls her eyes playfully.

“You ask that question every time, and every time you’re going to get the same answer Byulyi.” Yongsun pulls the brunette into her side by the waist with her free arm. She leans up and lands a kiss behind Byulyi’s ear. “He can wait, we have much more important things to be doing right now.”

Yongsun pulls her head away, putting on her best suggestive smile. Byulyi’s eyes immediately drop to her lips, and her own form a smirk to match. She places a quick kiss on Yongsun’s nose, her smirk growing into a grin when she pulls back.

“Oh!” Wheein says, as if just remembering something. “Also, Hyejin found this one this time. She pointed him out before and led the lure tonight.”

“Is that so?” Yongsun turns to Hyejin with an eyebrow raised in question, still smiling warmly.

Hyejin, who had been watching the scene in front of her with her usual confident demeanor and a soft smile, turns a bit more timid under Yongsun’s gaze. She responds with a shy nod. Yongsun beckons her closer with her own nod towards the space in front of her.

When Hyejin arrives right in front of her, Yongsun grips the other two more tightly before leaning towards the auburn haired woman. She carefully touches her lips to the corner of Hyejin mouth, maintaining contact as she speaks quietly.

“Good work, as always.” Yongsun edges over, hovering a hair’s width away from Hyejin’s lips. “You three never fail me.” Yongsun pulls back slightly to appreciate Hyejin’s expression. Her eyes are slightly hooded, and the neediness is written all over her face. It causes excitement to build in Yongsun’s body, and she knows she’ll never get tired of this. Of _them_.

Yongsun smirks. “And now I think it’s time for me to thank you all properly.”

She finally closes the distance to Hyejin’s lips, deepening the kiss immediately. Hyejin lets out a small moan and wraps her hands around the back of Yongsun’s neck to pull herself closer. Even as they get lost in the kiss, Yongsun can feel the hungry gazes of the other two. They grip her even tighter, drawn by their desire to join in. They nuzzle their way into both her and Hyejin’s necks, landing their own kisses there as well.

After a few breathless moments Yongsun pulls back from Hyejin with a pop. Hyejin follows after Yongsun’s lips for a second before she catches herself, clearly left wanting more. When her eyes slowly open, they’re almost black with how large her pupils have grown.

Despite her obvious need, Hyejin stays back. Her thumbs rub gently up and down where they are on Yongsun’s neck as she awaits the dark haired woman’s next move. Byulyi’s hand lands on her stomach, caressing the exposed skin there. Wheein returns to nuzzling into the side of her neck, occasionally dropping a soft peck.

They’re insistent, but not demanding. Eager, but not impatient. Yongsun smiles and savors the moment. She lets her love for these women overwhelm her lust for a little bit. These women who would do anything for her, because she would do the same for them. But when Wheein’s pecks along her skin turn to sucks, the heat of the moment returns and she gets back to business.

Yongsun steps away and beckons them towards the hidden door, intent on moving this activity to their bedroom.

“Let’s go.”

 

* * *

_[At The Lone Wolf bar]_

_A quiet noise behind the counter draws the bartender’s attention and she glances up from the glass she’d been cleaning. The small device underneath the register, only visible to employees behind the bar, starts moving. A small model of a moon colored a deep black color slowly descends until it disappears behind the horizon of the model device, where it will sit until the game begins once again. The bartender sighs and shakes her head._

_“Damn. I actually liked that guy’s music.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter @yongbora_ if you wanna chat with or yell at me there about my writing, Mamamoo, Dreamcatcher... or anything really tbh


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